


The Golden Orbit

by MrToddWilkins



Series: The Gift of Apollo [1]
Category: For Better or For Worse (Comics), Salvage One (1979)
Genre: Anthony? more like Granthony, April is Mike and Liz’s cousin, Changes to canon, Feminism, Novelization, Skylab, Space rescue, Surgery, gold - Freeform, obviously it didn’t catch on, there was a petition to rename Brooke Dennis “Bag O’Dicks Dennis”, this might as well be called Lizardbreath Becomes an Astronaut - The Multiverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27692567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrToddWilkins/pseuds/MrToddWilkins
Relationships: Calvin Billings/Allyson Creemore, Elizabeth Patterson/Patrick Morris, Molly Hecht/Michael Patterson, background John Pfeifer & Brooke Dennis, minor Sandra Bacon/Jeannie West, they’re not gay it’s just friendship
Series: The Gift of Apollo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1433635





	1. Epigraphs

Obstacles cannot crush me. 

Every obstacle yields to stern resolve. 

He who is fixed to a star 

does not change his mind.

\- Leonardo da Vinci

I think women are foolish to pretend they are equal to men. They are far superior and always have been. Whatever you give a woman, she will make greater. If you give her sperm, she will give you a baby. If you give her a house, she will give you a home. If you give her groceries, she will give you a meal. If you give her a smile, she will give you her heart. She multiples and enlarges whatever is given to her. So if you give her any crap, be ready to receive a ton of shit!

\- William Golding


	2. Prologue

Way out on the Golden Coast,there was this fellow I’d like to tell you about,a fellow by the name of Harry Broderick:leastways that was the handle his loving parents gave him, but he never had much use for it himself. See, this Broderick, he called himself "The Champ". Now, "Champ" - there's a name no man would self-apply where I come from. But then there was a lot about this guy that didn't make a whole lot of sense. And a lot about where he lived, likewise. But then again, maybe that's why I found the place so interesting. See, they call Sweet Valley the "Valley Of Angels"; but I didn't find it to be that, exactly. But I'll allow it as there are some nice folks there. 'Course I haven’t been to London, and I haven’t seen France neither. And I haven’t seen no queen in her undies like the rhyme. But I'll tell you what - after seeing Sweet Valley, and this here story I'm about to unfold, well, I guess I seen somethin' every bit as stupefying as you'd seen anywhere else:and in English, too. So I can die with a smile on my face, without feelin' like the good Lord gypped me. Now this story I'm about to unfold took place in 1980,when I only knew him through contacts in the business world. I only mention it because sometimes there's a man... I won't say a hero, 'cause, what's a hero? Sometimes, there's a man. And I'm talkin' about Harry Broderick here. A sweller dude never lived this side of Old Khazaddum. Bennyways,back in ‘76 he’d gotten it into his fool head that the way for man to get into space - _really_ get into space - was through private means. Y’know,like a jet or carpet service? So he went to a local junkyard,found himself some scrap metal (about three tons worth,or so I heard),and made hisself a space rocket. Took it all the way to the damn Moon,landed on Soviet property (or so you might say),stole their flag,and came back. Just like he’d gone down to the fishin’ hole of a Friday afternoon. The nerve of this guy,I tell you! So the upshot was the government agreed to let him alone,so long as he didn’t do anything illegal-like,and he’d even be allowed to launch satellites. That’s sorta how our tale begins,actually....


	3. Elizabeth I

400,000 feet above our home planet,in the cool darkness of an Apollo capsule,Elizabeth Deborah Patterson prepared to return to Earth. She was the only one on board the 13-foot spacecraft:her only companions were the lights on the control panel and the familiar _whir_ of the onboard cabin fans as they cycled the air around her. After a few days circling Earth,the blonde rookie was ready to return home. She set her hand on her control stick,gave it a few short test pulses. Pulling her communicator to her lips,she called Mission Control.

”Houston, _Minerva_ _,r_ emoting through Yarragadee. Coming up on the burn.”

”Roger” crackled the loudspeaker overhead. “Your coordinates for splashdown are 13 degrees, 19 minutes north, by 169 degrees, 10 minutes west. You've got good weather there:2,000 scattered, 8,000 scattered with ten-mile visibility. Wind is about 080 at 15 knots.”

”I copy. Where's the _Kitty Hawk_?”

“50 miles out and coming on fast. Crew Module RCS is looking good to us. Your weather is holding in the splash-down area. You're approaching the mark for separation and retrofire. Stand by.”

”Copy. Everything’s copacetic up here.”

Internally guffawing at her use of the colloquialism,Liz gave the maneuvering thrusters another test fire. The clock displayed 2:10 minutes to retrofire. Liz looked out the window to check the Apollo’s attitude against the horizon. _So far,so good_ ,she thought. At 1:00 to go,she set NOUN 52 in the computer. This was an automatic sequence controlling the burn.

”Auto sequence initiated,Houston.”

”Roger. All systems look good. NOUN 33 is 162:09:28, do you confirm?”

”I sure do.”

Thirty seconds later Liz felt the SPS engine’s force push her back into her seat at 1.5 gs. The force of weight was welcome to her,so she embraced it. After seventeen seconds the engine cut off. A light lit green on the control panel to signify this.

”Burn complete.”

”Copy that. The residuals are good,no trim required.”

Elizabeth set the automatic re-entry program into the computer. “Ready for SM sep.”

”Roger. Counting you down:7,6,5,4,3,2,1.”

Behind her seat Liz felt a gentle _bump_. “SM sep.”

”We have confirmation of separation from on-the-ground telemetry. Sep was at 162:14:38. Stand by with thrusters to assume re-entry attitude.”

”Loading VERB 49 now.”

”Maneuver to re-entry attitude commenced at 162:15 on the mark. 1 minute to blackout,no changes to landing site weather.”

“Copy that,Houston. Go for re-entry up here.”

”AOS is expected at 162:23:07 through ARIA 2. You’re going over the hill shortly. Good luck.”

With that the radio crackled and went silent. Outside the window of the crew module,the first sparkles of atmospheric entry went by with a _whiz_. Elizabeth fired a short burst on the RCS thrusters with the control stick. Everything was looking good. The FDAI 8-ball was aligned,the EMS scroll was moving as it should be,there were no-

The shrill chirp of a warning light interrupted Liz’s systems check. She inspected the panel,finding the red light in the lower center. It read RCS SATURATION. Wait a minute! She’d disabled the RCS before the blackout began,hadn’t she? So why was the RCS active again? She had to know. She couldn’t have a still-firing RCS damage the parachutes.

Just then,another chirp sounded in her headset,and another red light illuminated the panel. This one read GIMBAL LOCK. Liz groaned. Gimbal lock wasn’t a good thing at all. Essentially,the Apollo had lost its basic attitude reference. It was now a tin can slamming through a very angry sea. And that was not a good thing. Cursing to herself,Liz programmed in VERB 85,assuming full manual control of the Apollo. Outside,the relentless air moved about the Apollo’s exterior,creating an orange fireball surrounding the module. But Elizabeth had little time to observe the spectacle. Repositioning her glasses,she turned again to the systems checklist.

Presently the glow of entry faded. The sky outside the window was now dark blue,and the radio lines were hissing again.

“Houston,do you read me yet?”

”What’s your altitude? Over.”

”110,000 feet.”

”Your systems look good at this time,but our error logs note gimbal lock?”

”I solved it. We’re still on good course here.”

“You're breaking up at this time. Just advise when you release the mains.“

”Will do”, Elizabeth said with a confused voice. They’d sounded good to her. When the altimeter moved off the peg at 90,000 feet,she flipped a switch at her feet to equalize the cabin pressure with the outside air. The systems remained in good health. There weren’t any more warning lights on the console.

”50,000 feet”, Liz said to the onboard tape recorder. “Still holding steady. Stand by for drogues in 45 seconds.”

At 24,000 feet a small pyro-charge,not dissimilar to a small firework,went off at the top of the capsule. A small pilot parachute fluttered out of the exposed space beneath,then a larger drogue parachute popped into place. Another followed it in quick succession,illuminating the blue sky visible through the window.

Just then,failure struck again. The chutes were not fully deployed,as Liz could now tell. They were flopping around in the breeze.

”Houston,we’ve a negative on full drogue deploy.”

”Copy. We’re not getting any telemetry from the pyros. Stand by for a hard impact.”

Liz braced in her seat as the altimeter wound down. 16,000. 13,000. 10,000. The Apollo rocked precariously in the spring breeze. 5,000. 4,000. 3,000. 2,000. 1,000. 500. 200-


	4. Elizabeth II

With an audible _whoosh_ that sounded heavenly to Liz, the lights came up and the displays turned themselves off. That whole business from the last chapter? That’d been nothing but a simulation at the Crewed Spacecraft Center in the suburbs of Houston,Texas. Elizabeth Patterson had not,in fact,left the Earth:she was really as safe as she could possibly be. But that wasn’t preventing her from being ticked off like she’d never been ticked off before. 

“Congratulations,Apollo”, came the stilted voice of SimSup Anthony Caine from the next room. “You were lucky this time. Landing,which occurred at an MET of 162:31:49,was at 34 feet per second,just in the shadow of the USS _Tulagi_. You suffered nothing more than a concussion and were treated for shock in the ship’s infirmary.”

”That wasn’t _fair_ ,Anthony!”, replied an indignant Liz as she sat up in the simulator. “You can’t have a mostly nominal entry and then just spring a chute deployment failure on me like that! You’re such an.......oik! _Aaaagh_!”

Whatever reply Anthony might’ve said went unheard,as Liz took the occasion to turn off her microphone. Opening the hatch on the simulator,she stepped out into the open and angrily ripped off her Snoopy cap,letting her orange-blonde hair spill halfway down her back. She strode down the steps beneath the hatch and across the room to the changing area where waited her civilian clothes. She huffed angrily as she changed,stowing her spacesuit in the locker reading E.PATTERSON. Dressed in slacks and a comfortable sports shirt,she made her way to the elevator.

One elevator trip later,she exited the Simulator Building through the lobby and headed into the bright Houston sunshine. It was an unusually warm day for Texas in early April of 1980, with a few clouds in the sky and the Sun shining weakly from out of the west. Elizabeth walked to her car,where her roommate Drew Wellen waited. ‘Roommate’ isn’t exactly an accurate term here - she lived with Wellen and his wife Olivia in the upscale Houston suburb of El Lago,renting out their ground floor and sleeping on their couch,which had a pullout bed. 

”Hard day?” asked Drew. The Marine major had a classically tough look - short dark hair,intimidating hazel eyes,and muscular arms replete with tattoos. Yet for all that he was one of the nicest men Liz knew,which was saying a lot. He was one of the survivors of the old Manned Orbiting Laboratory program, prior to its recent transfer to Apollo-derived systems:as such,he’d been co-pilot on the penultimate space mission to utilize Gemini hardware.

”Yeah. Anthony threw me a real curveball today. Chute deploy failure.”


End file.
